In the Back Seat

Broken.

I'm so tired.
So tired I can't even pick up pieces of myself
They're brushed off
Swept away
Like my mental health
Kids like me aren't part of the majority of minorities
Those black kids that suffer from depression
Trauma from physical abuse
Emotional and mental
Their parents like brick walls
Bullied in the school halls for things they can't control.

It's bad enough we're being murdered in cold blood each day
It shouldn't be hard for people say
"This isn't right. He shouldn't be killed for being gay"
Or when he was only playing with a doll instead of playing ball
Then when Momma's at work
She gets that call
Daddy's in handcuffs
As if there weren't enough black men in jail
Stripped of the name momma gave them and only known as
"Black male."

Stereotypes burned into our skin and minds
People love the culture but not our kind
Calling cornrows boxer braids and usin perm
It's not for their hair but they'll never learn
Grandpa always said "if you don't learn you'll feel"
Now I'm thinking "damn what else are they gonna steal"
I guess getting dreadlocks, braids and full lips is trendy and seen as avant-garde
After the years of humiliation and mental scars
Giving flashbacks to the school yard.

My heart stops every time I see cops
It's the South, I'm not safe here, there or anywhere
Because Amerikkka plays dirty not fair
They have not only put black people but also Latinos through hell
Swept under the rug
Always stopping the world for a little white girl in a well
When will the injustice end
Only time will tell
We've become numb to murder
Too tired to yell.

DISCLAIMER:

I said what I said. Also I added more lmao. It's Gucci my dudes